


thank god

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: Coming Out, Emotions, Gen, Nervousness, some spideytorch if you squint lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 09:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Johnny comes out to the world--but this is about his last-minute nerves.





	thank god

"I'm gonna barf."

Peter crossed his arms, leaning in the doorway, languid and cat-like. "You're not gonna barf."

Dark, dark brown eyes and brows and hair—

"I am, I'm gonna throw up, and die, and—"

Johnny took a deep breath.

Let it out in a long sigh.

_Get ahold of yourself, Johnny_.

Let the building heat seep out, settle his stomach...

"C'mere." Peter held one arm out to Johnny, always so outwardly self-assured. Nodded Johnny toward him—and how could Johnny resist that? He flopped against Peter with a petulant noise in the back of his throat, burying his face in Peter's neck. Peter patted his back, then locked his arm around Johnny's shoulders and muttered, "Don't make me sing the song."

Johnny snorted, letting Peter hold most of his weight. "If you sing the song I'll punch you."

"Don't you know punching is a bad way to communicate—" Peter shifted so he could get a better grip on Johnny as he spoke. "No, headbutting is the way to go. Brain-to-brain contact."

That got a laugh out of Johnny.

"You know I love you, right?" Peter took Johnny by the shoulders so he could look him in the face. "You're my best friend."

"And how many of _those_ do you have?" Johnny teased, but...

Peter grimaced. "I have a lot of love, okay?"

"Uh-huh." Johnny closed his eyes a moment as he gathered himself, the last wisps of his smile fading as he focused on his breathing and the heat that always lay just under the surface of his skin. Slowly, in and out. Peter moved his hands to hold Johnny's face, palms cool for a moment before they warmed to Johnny's body temperature. Johnny opened his eyes, slowly. His heart beat a million miles an hour and his stomach had tied itself into a million knots, and his words tried to get stuck under his tongue as he said, "I—I'm—I'm scared, Peter."

Of so many things.

Retaliation, violence, sex, power...

Peter ran his thumbs across Johnny's cheekbones—his fingers all calloused and rough, but careful. "That's okay."

Johnny looked away, down at Peter's plaid shirt, lifting his hands to cover Peter's—his long, spidery fingers.

"You won't—let them hurt me." A glance up, just a flick to catch Peter's eyes. Not even a question, really, just... reminding himself.

Peter frowned. "Never."

He tilted his head, and ran his hand back through Johnny's hair, pushing him a little—not hard, not mean, just pushing his face aside as he took his other hand back, letting his fingers trail down the back of Johnny's neck.

"Think of it this way." He brought his hand back around and caught Johnny's chin. "Half the work's done already. You won't even have to tell anyone, because half the country will know before you even get downstairs."

"Oh, _God_." Johnny squeezed his eyes shut.

Peter pressed his lips to Johnny's forehead, firm and present. "Sorry." He poked Johnny's nose. "I think you got the wrong guy."

Johnny gave him a shove—"Asshole." He shouldered past Peter, through the doorway, and Peter laughed.

"You're getting _warmer_!"

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he smiled a little, down the hallway.

***

Johnny walked through the doorway into the communal kitchen, saw the little TV on the news, and immediately turned around to go right back where he came—but Peter was in his way, stern and immovable. A brick wall just the same size as Johnny.

"Move."

Peter did not move. He spoke low—said, "It's _okay_, Johnny."

Johnny pushed at Peter's shoulder, looking down at the ground. "G-get out of the way, Peter."

"Johnny...?"

He dug his fingers into Peter's shoulder—he knew it wouldn't hurt him—and turned his head slightly toward Sue's voice. But he couldn't look at her; kept his eyes on the floor.

"What's wrong, lad?"

They didn't know yet.

The news was just talking about the weather forecast.

The kids were eating breakfast and Wyatt hadn't even woken up yet.

"Peter, _move_—"

Louder and harsher than he meant to.

He really did feel like he was going to throw up, but this time Peter moved when he shoved at him. Let Johnny rush past and didn't follow him up the stairs. Up and up to the roof access door with heat building behind his eyes and in his throat and in his heart until he exploded out into the sky in a rush of bright blue flame.

Up and up and up and up as high as he could go, roaring faster and faster, but then he slowed, as he calmed, and grew quieter and cooler. Blue to violet, to red, to a licking golden flame. This high up, his flames curled and trailed after him in whorls, low in oxygen but still with plenty of fuel from his own body. He arched himself like a bow, arms outstretched to the sky, and let himself begin to... not fall, exactly. Not uncontrolled, at least. A spiral, swirling down toward the surface with the wind coaxing his flames in lazy loops. A falling leaf, rolling with the motions like a seal moves underwater.

Natural.

He corrected his course a little, and let his fire peel away into the breeze as he landed on the roof, running a few steps with his own momentum.

Peter stood in the access doorway not unlike he'd stood in the bedroom doorway earlier, arms crossed, watching.

Johnny stopped a few feet away from him, breathing heavy but not too fast, slow and deep.

"Hey, firecracker." Peter nodded up toward the sky. "Feel better?"

Johnny nodded, jaw tightening slightly.

Peter held his gaze for a few long seconds before finally saying, "It's going to happen whether you have second thoughts or not."

True...

"They're probably worried about you."

Definitely true.

Johnny took a breath.

"Just gimme a minute."

Peter nodded, still watching him closely.

***

"As your older sister..." Sue sipped at her coffee. "I just wish you would have told me, before the rest of the world."

Johnny sighed, one elbow propped against the marble countertop as he slouched forward. "I-it's not like that, sis, I just..." He messed up his hair with a noisy breath as he considered his words. "This way it would just be... one and done, you know? Everyone... Everyone knows."

Never mind the fact that the older he got the less confident he felt in confiding in, well, anyone, really. Peter, sometimes. Wyatt, sometimes. That was about it, these days. Maybe Ben.

"Anyway," He brightened up, falsely. "Better this than another secret sex tape!"

"Johnny..." Reed frowned slightly beside Sue. Stern.

Johnny ran his hand up the side of his face, looking away. His own expression falling. "I know."

So Reed sat with his arm around Sue, looking concerned as ever. Ben nearby... Alicia... the kids... Wyatt... Everyone curious, thoughtful. A regular family meeting. Peter, too, watching in gentle silence.

"I—I'm sorry..."

"Ah, lighten up!" Ben had taken half the paper, mostly just the funny pages, and now he folded them up neater than one might expect for a man made entirely of pumice or... whatever stone formed his exterior. "It takes a lotta guts to do what he did, and I'm proud'a him!" He sat up straighter, slapping his newspaper, and said, "Y'hear that, Johnny? I'm proud'a you!"

A small smile cracked Johnny's glum face. He pressed his forehead against the marble a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Thanks—" Johnny sat up and rubbed his face vigorously, trying to pick himself back up. "Thank you. I love you guys." His voice cracked a little but that was okay.

Softly, Sue reached out, and said, "We love you too, Johnny."

Finally, as if she'd been holding it in this whole time, Valeria blurted out, "When are you gonna get a boyfriend?!"

Johnny sat, stunned a moment, but then he huffed, and that turned into a laugh, and he dissolved into a fit of mirth as all this relief lifted from his shoulders like steam. And then that turned into tears, and he was crying in the kitchen, hunched over the island, surrounded by his family. Just... so, so relieved he felt lightheaded—but maybe that was the emotional breakdown. At least two different hands settled on his back, his shoulders, comforting and alive and accepting, and thank God.

Thank God.

**Author's Note:**

> ehhh not sure how i feel about this but hey
> 
> "the song," peter mentions btw: [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjLr1XhBKVQ)
> 
> I based johnny's flame phases on a Bunsen burner cause I think it's pretty lol. I have a whole little delineation of temperatures he has and what colors they are.
> 
> picture, if you will, a front page spread in the Bugle with a nice big beautiful portrait of Johnny in full color, with the headline "Flaming Gay: The Human Torch Opens Up About Love, Life, and the Closet" And it’s like, half essay written by johnny, half a photoshoot peter took to accompany it.
> 
> perhaps i did write out a rough version of the article.  
perhaps not.
> 
> this whole thing was kind of a bitch to write, i kept starting over and scrapping things. i have a whole different start to it i ended up not liking that was kinda muddied with johnny's anxieites about his powers but that also went into his traumas wrt sex but i decided not to do that for this. i mean it's mentioned in passing, definitely written with his history in mind, but not like, focused on at all obviously.
> 
> honestly even this lighter hearted thing--coming out isn't really something i write about much, idk if just it feels. weird i dunno. but. i did anyway.


End file.
